


Bloody Discovery

by Doctor_Discord



Series: The Ego Manor [34]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bim is Discovered and He Freaks, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Comfort, Panic Attacks, Wil is a Good Boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 07:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Wilford accidentally bypass the heavy magic guarding the door to Bim's basement.What was his little apprentice hiding?





	Bloody Discovery

Wilford hummed a jovial tune to himself, closing his eyes as he teleported. He’d done this so often, especially to Bim’s studio in order to check up on and guide his little prodige, he didn’t really need to pay attention anymore. He was going to Bim’s studio for exactly that reason – to check up on him. It had been brought to his attention that Bim had yet to come home by a frantic King – something was going on between those two, he and his reporter instincts could _smell_ _it_ – and, seeing that it was nearing midnight, he’d felt a spike of alarm himself and instantly teleported, locking on to Bim’s aura, something that was growing stronger every day.

When Wilford opened his eyes though, he didn’t recognize where he stood.

He glanced around, growing more uneasy by the second. He was standing in a stairwell, dimly lit and neglected. Wilford was pretty confident in his knowledge of Bim’s studio, and he’d _never_ seen this place before. With something uncomfortable that he couldn’t quite name rolling in his gut, he spun around, grabbing the stair railing to avoid falling backwards. The door – the door to Bim’s basement, the one that the younger game show host had had the Host layer with his own magic – was looming behind him. Wilford placed a hand on it, and immediately drew it back when _pain_ shot through him. The magic was definitely still there. _Somehow_ he’d managed to slip past the barrier in his inattentiveness. Huh.

And then he noticed the _noises_.

All the hair on the back of his neck stood straight as the _sounds_ were brought to the forefront of his attention. They were animalistic – grunts and growls and groans and _definitely_ not human.  They made him shiver. He crept slowly down the stairs, his aura beginning to wisp around him in case he needed protection. He was _positive_ Bim was down here; he could feel his aura. But that begs the questions:

What _else_ was at the end of these stairs?

Wilford was almost tempted to just _get the Hell out_ before he even made it to the bottom, but the need to make sure Bim was okay overruled it. He shook his head, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead. Closing his eyes – _God_ , that just _amplified_ the _sounds_ – and taking a deep breath, he rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs, peeking into the room that opened up.

He had to slap both hands over his mouth to muffle his horrified gasp.

He was met with the glassy stare of a woman, her head tilted back and bent over some kind of table to face him, her mouth open in a silent scream. Dead. Very, _very_ dead if the blood soaking into her hair and smeared across her face was anything to go by. Knives and saws and a variety of tools were displayed on the walls, some clean, most painted red with old and new blood. But that was fine. Wilford could handle that. His own blade collection was laid out very similarly in his own room.

What made him so horrified was Bim _on top_ of the woman.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his apprentice. Blood was soaked into every inch of the young game show host as he tore into her corpse, teeth buried in her throat. Wilford had to muffle a gag when Bim jerked his head, thrashing like a wild animal, and pulled the chunk of flesh free with a growl – all those noises were coming from _him_ – and greedily shoved it into his mouth with hands that dripped with blood and gore. He swallowed with an audible noise, and Wilford caught the look in his eye, cringing back into the stairwell. It wasn’t _human_ ; it was animal, predatory, like a shark in a feeding frenzy.

Bim shifted lower on the woman’s body, lifting a knife Wilford hadn’t noticed previously, and sliced a long wound down the woman’s arm. Immediately he latched onto the welling blood, running his tongue down it with far too much eagerness, lapping up the blood before pulling the skin apart with his bare hands, delving his tongue deeper before biting down, ripping more flesh and muscle free. He let out a low moan, and Wilford felt _sick_ , yet unable to stop watching as Bim began tearing her arm apart, slick bone visible and gripping onto one of her exposed ribs for support, her chest cavity complete ripped open and exposed with clearly practiced ease.

Swallowing down the horror, Wilford stepped deeper into the room, lowering his hands from his mouth. “…Bim?”

Bim’s head shot up, staring at him with the beginnings of a snarl contorting his face, that animalistic glint drowning everything else in his eyes and blood dripping in a near steady stream off his chin. But then the glint faded as recognition set in, his face softening in more confusion than anything. “Wilford?” Suddenly his eyes widened as panic seized him, and he practically fell off the table, abandoning the corpse to back himself into a corner, scrambling across the floor. “What are you _doing_ here?! H-how did you…how long…” Tears sprung to his eyes as they darted around the room, refusing to look at Wilford and clearly scanning for an escape route.

“Hey! Hey, it’s okay, Bim!” Wilford took a hesitant step forward, hands raised placatingly. “I’m not here to judge. I’m here to, actually, check up you. You hadn’t come home and, well, I suppose I can see why.” He glanced at the body, noticing how thoroughly she’d been dissected. He swallowed, looking back at his panicked apprentice.

Bim pulled his knees up to his chest, hands tearing at his hair and slicking it with blood. “H-how did you get past the door?! The Host said…he promised…” He let out a broken sob, burying his face between his knees.

“It’s not the Host’s fault, he didn’t lie to you.” Wilford scratched the back of his head. “It was an accident, actually. I have no idea how I got here.” That didn’t seem to ease Bim’s meltdown, only succeeding in making him sob harder. Wilford took the last few hurried steps to Bim’s side, crouching down in front of him and placing his hands in his shoulders, ignoring the way blood immediately seeped through his fingers. “Bim, I promise you, it’s okay! Like I said, I’m not here to pass judgement.” Bim lifted his head, tears smearing the blood on his face. Wilford offered him a smile. “We all know, anyway. At least, those of us around for your debut. We aren’t going to hate you for it. That would be _extremely_ hypocritical of us.”

Bim gave a strained laugh, hands still fisted tight in his hair. “Okay…fair enough…” He swallowed harshly. “You can understand why I did my best to keep this a secret. This…wouldn’t exactly be good for my career.”

Wilford snorted, and Bim’s laugh was more genuine this time. Wilford smiled, gently prying his hands from his hair. “Come on. It was my mission to get you home. Let’s get you cleaned up first though. I doubt the others would be too pleased to see blood everywhere.” He helped Bim to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his wrists as the game show host shook. He eyed the corpse as they passed it. “What do you want to do with that?”

Bim glanced away from it, clearing his throat. “I have… _really_ lost my appetite. I’ll deal with her in the morning.”

Wilford hummed, continuing to lead the other away. “At least now I understand why you were so insistent on having showers in your studio. Convenient.”

Bim snorted, finally seeming to calm down. “You have _no_ idea.” He fell quiet again as they approached the door, and Wilford let him pass to open it. He turned around, hand on the doorknob. “Um, Wilford?”

He raised an eyebrow, hands on his hips.

His apprentice smiled, a tiny, sincere smile. “Thank you. I…yeah.”

Wilford smiled back. “It’s no problem, Bim. In fact, I might have to ask you about your technique back there. That looked pretty professional.”

Bim laughed, slapping him on the shoulder and opening the door. “Alright, whatever. Come on, I want to go home.”

Wilford chuckled as his little apprentice bounced around his studio, his usual energy rapidly coming back as he made his way to the showers. As _fucked up_ as what he just saw was…

He’d done worse.

**Author's Note:**

> Bim is a good cannibal boi and deserves LOVE and WIL is just ahhhhhhhhhhh! Anyway! Wednesday's story will be VERY special, and, if you stalk the egos as much as I do (or payed attention to the Decorating the Christmas Tree story), you may know what it's about! See ya then!


End file.
